At Least I Know I'm A Sinner
by carryonmy-waywardson
Summary: Priest!Winchesters.


**Pairing:** Sam/Dean.  
><strong>Description:<strong> While investigating a case involving a demon, Sam and Dean dress up like priests. When they get to the church, the two of them decide to take their sinning to a whole new level, while discovering a new kink.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> sorta angry sex, sex in a church, sex in public, minor choking, blasphemy and sinning.

* * *

><p>Dean scratched his collar and grumbled under his breath as he sat in the Impala, waiting for Sam. They'd been in a small town in Illinois, working a job that - in Sam's words - <em>required<em> them to pretend to be priests. Dean was up for doing anything that would get the job done quicker, but he'd already done the priest thing once; he didn't want to be stuck doing it a second time, for God knows how long this time. It was hot in the car, and in the suit, and all Dean wanted to do was take it off; to be in his _normal_ clothes, sitting on his bed back at the motel, with a cold beer in his hand.

But, of course, Sam had a way of making Dean do things; he would ask him nicely, pout and play like he was genuinely upset that the eldest wouldn't do it, and give his infamous puppy dog eyes. When none of that worked, Sam would push Dean against a wall, press him tightly against it and lean in, working on the eldest's neck, ears, and throat until he moaned out a barely audible yes. The latter _always_ worked, and when Sam got what _he _wanted, he'd always leave Dean there; back pressed tightly against the drywall, his cock already hard in his jeans, and his breathing heavy and uneven.

Lost in his thoughts, Dean hadn't noticed Sam was back until he heard the door slam shut behind him. The loud bang pulled him from his thoughts, and Dean shook his head, running his fingers underneath his collar and grumbling some more. When he looked to his right, he saw Sam sitting there, wearing an outfit that _perfectly_ resembled his own, a grin plastered on his face. Staring at Sam, Dean unbuttoned the neckband and pulled it out of his collar, twisting his neck around and sighing as he dropped it between the two of them.

"Dean, put it back on." Sam's face twisted into an expression of disapproval and Dean shot him a glance, snorting. Shaking his head, Dean put the Impala in drive and pressed the gas pedal, pulling away from the curb and into traffic. He could hear Sam sigh, and that made him crack a grin as he leaned back, bringing his left hand to the top of his shirt, unbuttoning the first few buttons. "You do realize that we'll be at the church _any_ minute, right?"

"Just because _you _like playing priest for a while," Dean stopped at a stop light and turned to Sam, the grin on his face spreading, "doesn't mean I have to, Sammy." He winked before turning back, leaning slightly against the door, listening to Sam sigh, once again. "But, I do have to say - seeing you in that outfit makes me wanna sin." Dean chuckled as the light turned green and he sped through the intersection, heading toward St. Mary's.

"Dean, can you _please_ - just for once - try and act professional? And maybe try not to think about me while I'm…" Sam stopped, chewing on his thumbnail before sinking down into the seat. "While _we_ are dressed as men of God." The second the words were out, Sam regretted saying them because he could hear Dean's short, raucous laughter in his mind, even before the eldest opened his mouth.

Sighing, Sam turned away from Dean and watched buildings pass, along with people and other cars. He wondered how Dean could toss this job aside so easily, like it meant _nothing_, and joke while they were working. Time passed and soon, Sam could feel the car slowing down and he turned, his eyes set on a big, brick building.

Dean pulled into the parking lot and into a space closest to the door, before shutting the Impala off. Before he took the keys out of the ignition, he grabbed the neckband and slipped it back under his collar, securing it before redoing the buttons he'd undone. Checking himself in the rear-view mirror, Dean smiled and tore the keys out of the ignition and looked at Sam. Even when Sam was upset at Dean, he had to admit that his smile - brilliantly white and slightly crooked in the most perfect way - made his own lips curl into a grin.

"C'mon, Sammy—lets talk demons." Dean laughed at his own joke and Sam rolled his eyes, opening the door before climbing out. Once he was standing, Sam stretched slightly, bringing his hands to his jacket and shirt, making sure everything was perfect. In seconds, he was falling in line behind Dean as they entered the church, his eyes immediately sweeping the main part of the church.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, and Sam ran into him, uttering a curse word under his breath. When he stepped back, he looked past Dean's shoulder and to the pulpit - specifically the man standing behind it. He was tall and much older than either of the Winchesters had imagined, and Sam suddenly felt intimidated by him.

"Father Sullivan?" Dean was the first - and only - to speak as he stepped forward, spreading his hands slightly. The older man smiled softly at him and nodded his head, lifting a Bible from the stand in front of him, before walking around it. Sam could hear Dean breathe a sigh of relief, and he did the same; slipping his hands into his pockets as he watched his brother step forward, meeting Father Sullivan half-way.

"I'm Father Page," Dean pressed his hand to the middle of his chest, "and this is Father Bonham." He nodded pointedly at Sam, a smile sweeping across his lips as he dropped his hand from his chest and held it out to Father Sullivan. Sam stepped forward, falling beside Dean and they watched as the Father stepped forward, clutching his Bible to his side.

"Father Sullivan," he smiled at them and tipped his head toward Sam, before taking Dean's and shaking it gently. When Dean and Father Sullivan dropped their hands, the priest sighed and looked around the church for a moment, before his gaze moved to the boys again. "Is this about the _disturbance_?" He spoke the word 'disturbance' as though it were a curse word, and Sam could tell that he was uneasy just thinking about it.

"Yes sir, Father Bonham and I are looking to maybe learn something from you; about your experiences with the victim and their family—if you don't mind." As Dean spoke, he locked gazes with Father Sullivan and watched the man nod, before motioning them to one of the many empty pews around them. Dean and Father Sullivan sat in the same pew, and Sam sat behind them, his arms folded over the back of the pew.

"I can't tell you much, son," Father Sullivan smiled softly at Dean, dropping his head to the Bible in his hands, gripping it tightly. "The possessed was the sheriff's daughter. She was nine at the time, and I suppose she doesn't remember much, but I—I remember everything, like it happened yesterday, though it's been more than six years, I suppose." As the Father spoke, Sam could almost feel the anger and sadness that he was feeling, and swallowed hard, waiting for him to continue.

"It was in the summer of two-thousand, and I was finishing up a service here; my congregation had just dispersed, and I was in my office when I got the call." Father Sullivan shut his eyes and curled his fingers around the Bible even tighter, a shudder passing through his body. "I was in my office, and it was just getting dark; I remember, because it was starting to cool off, and I had thought about taking a walk. Anyway, the sheriff called and was crying on the other line, each word that came out of his mouth was so…. it was all so jumbled up, you know what I mean?" He opened his eyes and looked up, first at Dean, and then to Sam, watching them both nod before his eyes went to back to the book in his hands.

"Finally, he calmed down enough to tell me that there was something wrong with his daughter. Her eyes had gone completely black, and she was speaking in a language none of them could understand," Father Sullivan stopped again and sighed, his face turning toward the brothers slowly, and Sam swore telling the story was making him look older. "I could hear her in the background - screaming in Latin - and I understood every word; 'Aeshma, the wrathful one, walks among you; Lucifer treads not far behind. Where there is plague, destruction, and death - you will see the Devil, in the flesh.' I'll never forget what she said, and it still haunts me to this day.."

"Aeshma? The demon of Wrath?" Sam's forehead furrowed slightly as he leaned forward, trying to take it all in. When Father Sullivan turned, they locked gazes for a moment and Sam could see how tormented the Father was, and he dropped his eyes, turning to look at Dean. The eldest turned to him, his hazel eyes softer than before, and Sam shook his head lightly.

"You've encountered Aeshma?" Father Sullivan's voice was a bit higher than before and Sam turned to him, shaking his head more. The priest sighed and nodded his head solemnly, turning back to look past the pulpit, and at a statue of Mary that stood behind it. "I left quickly and when I got there, the lights were completely out; everything stood still, and it was almost as if there were no occupants inside. But then I saw her - or shall I say _it_- moving in front of a window, before stopping. Then I saw these eyes, staring down at me, and they were as black as night, and I could have sworn they…"

"Flashed red?" Dean finished the Father's sentence, watching him nod slowly before his lips pursed into a hard, thin line. The three of them were silent for a moment, before Father Sullivan sighed and chuckled, his eyes sweeping the interior of the church slowly.

"She looked down at me, grinned, and turned to walk away just before I burst through the door. I went upstairs, and that's where I found the family - unconscious, but still breathing." He paused again and looked back to Sam and Dean, smiling softly; the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly. "Long story short, I found the little girl out back, tearing apart the neighbor's cat. I doused her in Holy Water, read the exorcism ritual while she lay, writhing on the ground. The next thing I know, there's a cloud of black smoke coming from her mouth and it disappeared into the night. After it was all done, I called 911 and stayed until the ambulance came to pick the family up. They were all fine, and the little girl - her name is Sarah - made a full mental recovery. She didn't recall a single event that happened to her that night, and I'm thankful for that."

When the Father stopped talking, Sam leaned back against the pew and huffed out a sigh, his eyes wide in amazement. Dean was leaning against the pew he and Father Sullivan were sitting in, his eyes fixated on the priest. He couldn't imagine dealing with a demon in a young child, and he wondered if all the demons - specifically the one they were after - would be as easy to handle. His thoughts were interrupted when Father Sullivan stood and cleared his throat, pulling both his and Sam's eyes to attention.

"I'm sure that's all you wanted to hear about," Father Sullivan said, in a quiet voice, before turning to Sam, eyes burning with pain and torment. "If you excuse me, I have another meeting to go to." Without another word, the Father turned and exited the pew, walking through the narrow aisle, before exiting the building, leaving Sam and Dean all by themselves.

"A kid, possessed.." Dean scoffed slightly before turning in his seat, staring at Sam with curious eyes. When the youngest didn't turn, or even acknowledge that Dean had said anything, he cleared his throat and reached over the back of the pew, smacking Sam's knee lightly. "You awake, man?" His voice was rough and low, and Dean kept his hand on Sam's knee, waiting for him to reply. Finally, Sam snapped his eyes to Dean and shook his head, bringing a hand up to push the hand away from his knee.

"Dean, there was more to the story; I could see it in his eyes… Father Sullivan wasn't telling us everything." Sam leaned forward, placing his hands on the back of the pew in front of him, sighing heavily. "Did you not see his eyes? All the pain he held onto while he told us that story… It's not normal for a cut-and-dry exorcism, D.."

"Aw, come on, Sam; you always think people are leaving details out. Maybe he's just tired, who knows?" Dean brought both of his hands in front of him and linked his fingers together, pushing them out, listening to his joints pop. He stood up and slipped his hands into his pockets, looking down at Sam. "Maybe it _was_ just a cut-and-dry exorcism, and he's upset because it was a kid, or something. Don't think too much about it, little brother."

"You know as well as I do, that regular exorcisms are simple, and there's no emotional attachment - no matter their age." Sam's voice was growing louder, and more angry, as he stood up and slipped a hand to the back of his neck. "We need to do as much research as we can on that demon, Aeshma, and figure out how powerful it is," Sam slipped his free hand into the pocket of his slacks. "It _is_ the demon of Wrath, Dean; it cannot be that easy to—"

"Sam, just shut up, okay?" Dean almost screamed the words as he threw his hands up, almost in surrender. "It was a simple fucking exorcism, can't you let it go, man?" Sighing, Dean brought his hands down, placing them on either side of Sam's face, smirking lightly. "Let's just go out, have a beer, and go back to the motel and have some fun before we have to work again."

"No, Dean." Sam pushed Dean's hands away from his face and watched as he stepped back, leaning against another pew. His expression went from playful to upset - almost dejected - and Sam sighed heavily. "You always want to drink beer and have fun, when we _should_ be working, don't you get that?" He almost screamed the words at Dean, before realizing where they were, and he swallowed hard. "I don't get you, man; don't you care that there's a _demon _tearing this town apart, along with whatever meat suit it decides to take?"

"Yes, Sam; I do _care_," Dean spoke the last word with as much anger and venom as he could before whispering, "I just don't get why this is so important to you. I don't understand how a demon infestation can be more important than spending time with me." After he spoke, Dean looked down and kicked the toe of his boot against the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was angry, both with himself and Sam, and he didn't want to youngest to see just how upset he really was. As he looked down, Dean could hear Sam's shoes shuffling against the floor and he brought his gaze up, watching as Sam slipped out of the pew and began walking toward the front of the church.

"What are you doing?" Dean snapped as he stepped out of the aisle he was in and followed Sam until he stopped in front of the confessionals. "Oh come on, I'm not here to confess any sins, Sammy." Snorting, Dean grabbed Sam's elbow and tried to pull him back toward the aisle so they could leave, but the younger man didn't budge. He stood still, staring at the booths in front of him, before turning to Dean, a smirk on his face.

"What if you weren't confessing them to a real priest - but you were confessing them to Father Winchester?" Even as Sam spoke, Dean could see that he was still angry, and he shook his head, huffing out a small burst of laughter. It was insane and ridiculous, but also somewhat erotic at the same time; the thought of Sam sitting on the other side of the booth, listening to Dean describe his sins. Swallowing hard, Dean dropped Sam's elbow and finally nodded in agreement, moving to one of the doors.

Neither of them spoke until they were secure in the confessional, and Dean sat on the small bench, hands running up and down his thighs slowly. As he waited for Sam to draw the curtain back, he thought of what sins he could possibly confess. Finally, something clicked in his mind and he grinned, sitting back against the wall, listening to the screen squeak as Sam pushed it back. Even before he said anything, Dean could feel his cock growing hard in his slacks and he cleared his throat.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Dean started off, like he thought he was supposed to, and listened to Sam murmur softly. He wasn't sure as to _what_ Sam said, other than it sounded like a soft 'mm,' and he chewed on his bottom lip softly. "I've had lustful thoughts about someone," he sighed softly and turned his head, barely making out the silhouette of Sam's profile behind the screen, "a guy - specifically, my brother. I can't help it, Father; I know we're blood, and incest is wrong, but… _God damn_, he's got this way of making me want more, even if he's not doing anything to me."

"And have you ever acted upon these sexual fantasies, son?" Sam's voice was lower and almost breathless, and Dean wondered what he was doing on the other side of the booth. Swallowing hard, Dean slid down the bench until he was sitting on the edge and he kicked his legs out as wide and far as they would go.

"Sometimes - we both have, a couple of times," Dean barely breathed the words out as he reached down, unzipping and unbuttoning his slacks. "No one really knows we're brothers, though," he whispered, slipping his hand into his pants and over the front of his boxers. The moment his hand pressed against his half-hard cock, Dean whined and twisted his head back, snapping his eyes shut.

"And why is that?" Sam's voice was broken and Dean smirked, envisioning what he was doing on the other side; wondering if he was stroking or teasing himself just the way he was. "Because with our work, we have to pretend to be other people - like police officers, or FBI agents…" Dean bucked his hips forward as he spoke and licked his lips gently, moving his palm down the shaft of his covered cock slowly. "So, I figured, what the hell? People see us out, they don't know we're related, and if I wanna shove him against a wall and rut against him like there's no fucking tomorrow; I don't see why I shouldn't."

Sam didn't say anything, but Dean could hear his breath hitching and a smirk crept across his lips as he gripped his shaft through the now damp cotton. He stroked himself slowly, moaning low in his throat and grinning more when he could hear Sam groan on the other side of the screen. Swallowing hard, Dean straightened up and got close to the screen, his voice low as he spoke. "And all I wanna do is have him laid out in front of me, naked and throbbing as I thrust into him; is that really so bad?"

"Lusting after your brother is a sin, punishable by a lifetime in Hell," Sam spoke with an uneven voice as he palmed his cock through his slacks. Each word Dean spoke was making him throb harder and he wanted to rip that stupid outfit off of him and fuck him. Hell, Sam would even go as far to say that he wanted Dean behind him; his strong hands shoving his shoulders and back forward, while his cock slammed into him.

"Your turn to confess, Sammy." Dean breathed the words out and leaned back again, staring at the screen between them. He could see that Sam had his head tipped back and he licked his lips slowly, wishing he could bite the youngest's skin. As Dean sat back, he kept his legs spread slightly, but bent his knees and brought his legs toward the bench.

"Forgive me, Father for I—for I have sinned," Sam stumbled over the words as he leaned his head against the wall and continued to grope himself through his slacks. "I've been having thoughts about my brother, Dean, and I having sex in a Catholic church, while we're both dressed as priests." As he spoke, Sam's mind was reeling and he pushed his hips against his hand, breathing heavily as he felt sweat drip down the side of his neck.

"And how do you feel about these thoughts, my son?" Dean could feel his mouth watering and all he wanted to do was go in the next booth, grab Sam and fuck him. He wanted to make Sam scream his name, and fill the church with his noises and sounds. Just thinking about it made Dean feel like he was going to come, and he pulled his hand away from his cock, gripping his thigh.

"Really, _really_, fucking hard.." Sam whimpered the words out and gripped his cock through his slacks, moaning loudly as his fingers squeezed his shaft. He could feel the head of his cock throbbing against his boxers, which were sticking to him, and he breathed hard. "I want to feel his body against mine as he drives his cock into me and pulls my hair, telling me to call him Father Winchester."

That was it; that was all it took for Dean to groan out and stand up, heading out of his side and opening the door to Sam's. He didn't even stop to see if anyone was in the church, nor did he care at that point; all Dean wanted to do was put Sam on his knees, and slide his cock into him. When he got into Sam's side of the confessional, Dean saw that it was bigger than the other and he grinned, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Want me to fuck you, Sam?" Dean asked as he straddled Sam's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. Tangling his fingers in the youngest's hair, Dean pulled his head back and watched as Sam blinked his eyes open, green, lust-blown eyes staring up at him. Dean swallowed hard and leaned down, taking Sam's bottom lip between his teeth and pulling gently, listening to him moan and whimper. Each of those noises went straight to his cock and Dean started moving against Sam slowly, tugging his hair harder.

"Say it," Dean mumbled when he let go of Sam's lip, their hips working together. "Say_ 'I want you to fuck me, Father Winchester.'_" The small booth filled with Sam's moans as he reached out and grabbed Dean's hips, holding onto the tightly as he bucked his own forward, matching the eldest's movements.

"I want you to fuck me, Father—oh, fuck, Father Winchester.." Sam closed his eyes and felt his cock throbbing harder than before, almost as if it were begging for attention. He could hear Dean moan, then chuckle and his eyes snapped open, falling on his older brother. Watching as Dean slid off his lap and into a standing position, Sam worked on removing his shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as possible.

Once the buttons were undone, Sam dropped the garment to the floor and worked on undoing his slacks. With shaky hands, he finally got those undone and he wiggled out of them, letting the fabric fall around his ankles. Sam looked up, finally, and saw that Dean was down to his boxers, and he had a condom wrapper between his teeth. Of course, Sam knew that Dean had come prepared - he _always_ did - and he was thankful for that.

"I'm still mad at you, so I think you should turn around and get on your knees on that bench." Dean grabbed the wrapper from between his teeth and winked at Sam, watching as he stood, his legs obviously trembling. "And pull your boxers down, like a good boy." Sam moaned at the command and nodded his head, the anger he'd felt earlier coming back in full force. When his boxers were around his calves, along with his slacks, Sam turned and knelt on the small bench, spreading his legs slowly.

"Such a good little boy," Dean purred as he stepped forward and kissed Sam's neck gently, opening the wrapper slowly. "Shoulda dressed as a choir boy to make this more accurate," he whispered while removing the condom from the package and sliding his underwear down. Without hesitating, Dean slipped the latex over his cock and moaned at the friction, feeling it slide down his shaft, and fit snugly around the base.

"Just shut up and fuck me," Sam snapped as he leaned against the wall, his chest pressing against the cool, smooth wood. He could hear a chuckle beside his ear and he shuddered, feeling the head of Dean's cock moving against his ass. "Please, Dea— _Father Winchester_," he pleaded, moving himself back against Dean, whimpering lightly. The chuckling got louder before it faded away, and Dean grabbed either of Sam's ass cheeks, spreading them slowly before pressing the head of his cock against his opening.

"You ready, Sammy?" Dean purred and he listened to Sam whimper out a soft, barely audible yes, before pressing his cock against the youngest's opening. The booth suddenly filled with noises - Sam's whimpering and moaning drowning out Dean's soft grunts. The more of Dean's cock that slid inside of him, the louder Sam's whimpers got and soon he was reaching around, grabbing Dean's forearm and digging his nails into his skin.

"Take it like like the sinful little boy you are," Dean groaned through barred teeth as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the middle of Sam's back. He panted heavily against the smooth, tanned skin underneath him and swallowed hard, slamming the entire length of his cock into Sam. The booth filled with more noises than before, and Dean moved a hand up, wrapping it around the front of Sam's throat. His fingers were splayed on the right side of his neck, digging into the skin as he lifted his head, resting it against Sam's. "You're so fucking tight—ugh, tight, Sammy.."

Dean was breathing heavily against Sam's ear, before biting it and squeezing his throat gently - not enough to hurt him, but just the perfect amount to make him cry out. Smirking, Dean pulled out half-way and thrust his hips toward Sam's ass; the sound of skin slamming against skin filled the air, along with their noises and the faint smell of sex. He licked his lips slowly and gripped Sam's hip hard enough to bruise, listening to each moan that escaped the youngest's throat, as well as every sharp intake of breath.

"H-harder, Father.." Sam's moans were broken, and Dean only managed to hear the first one - the demand that he go harder - and he smirked. Fulfilling Sam's demand, Dean pulled back, keeping his hands right where there were, and straightened his back. His cock slid in and out of Sam as hard as Dean could possibly thrust; his hips slamming against Sam's ass, making him cry out louder.

"Beg for forgiveness, Sam.." Dean's voice was rough and angry now, and he slipped his hand off Sam's hip and to his shoulder. He gripped it tightly and arched his back; thrusting in and out of the younger man with full force. Each thrust Dean made only made him inch closer to his orgasm, and he could feel it; his body trembled, fingers shaking as he flexed them against Sam's shoulder for a better grip. Even his breathing was harsher than before, and Dean tried to hold off the best he could; tried to keep himself from coming until Sam did.

"Forgive me f-father…" Sam moaned out, reaching down to grab his cock and pressing his cheek against the wall, "for I have sinned.." Hearing Sam recite the words made Dean throb harder inside of him and he slammed forward, keeping his hips pressed against Sam. The youngest screamed out, feeling the head of Dean's cock hit his prostate, and his own cock throbbed in his hand.

"Gonna come, Dean," he whimpered out, moving his hips back and forth, his hand moving up and down his cock. His body shook against Dean's, and he could feel the eldest's hand grip his throat tighter, almost silencing him completely. Only a few soft moans escaped Sam's throat as he worked his hips against Dean's, in a circular motion. After only a moment, Sam's body was trembling harder than before; his breathing heavier, and his moans turning into muffled screams as he came all over himself and the bench in front of him.

"Fuck, Sammy…" Dean grunted as he loosened his grip on Sam's throat and pulled out, thrusting forward once more. Sam's muscles tightened around his cock and that was all he needed to let go; coming hard inside of the younger man, and almost screaming his name out as he rode out his orgasm. Both men were panting heavily; Sam collapsing more so against the wall, and Dean slumping forward, hovering over Sam's back.

Neither of them moved for a while, and Dean was perfectly content on staying how he was, until he heard Sam groan, before feeling him shift. Sighing, Dean stood up straight and pulled out of Sam, biting his lip to keep himself from grunting. He exhaled sharply and slipped the condom off his cock, letting it fall to the ground at his feet.

Dean staggered back and fell against the wall opposite of Sam, a small chuckle escaping as he watched the youngest turn and lean back. There was a small smile on Sam's face, but Dean was still mad at him, and all he wanted to do was put Sam on his knees on the floor. Sighing, Dean decided he was too tired and too worn out to make Sam do _anything_- for now - and he reached down, pulling his boxers and slacks up.

"I'm pretty sure we're going to Hell," Sam muttered as he straightened the bottom half of his outfit, before reaching down to grab his shirt. When he stood back up, Dean was grinning at him and shaking his head, chuckling quietly to himself. Sam quirked a brow as he slipped his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and tilted his head as he began buttoning it.

"Sam - we're brothers who fuck each other; I'm pretty sure you and I already have two seats reserved in the pit." Dean pulled his own shirt on and buttoned it as Sam finished straightening himself out. When they were both ready to go, Dean looked down at the used condom that lay on the floor and then gazed up at Sam, his eyebrows raised. "Lets leave it."

"Dude, no! That's not only gross, but it's _wrong_." Sam shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair, listening to Dean's laughter as it filled the tiny space between them. The eldest was looking pointedly at the bench behind Sam, and it took the youngest a while to understand what he was saying. Once he understood, Sam turned crimson and chewed on his lip.

"Exactly. You left a mess, so I'm contributing." Dean winked playfully before heading to the door and opening it slowly. He peeked his head out and looked around the church before stepping out, pulling Sam with him. The two of them walked down the aisle quickly and exited the church, with Sam looking up at the sky, as if lighting would strike any second.

"That was a horrible thing we did," he muttered, following Dean to the Impala, before getting in. Dean didn't reply for a second; instead, he turned the car on and removed the neckband under his collar. Only then did he turn to Sam, with a grin on his face and his head cocked slightly. "You didn't say no, and you definitely didn't protest. If anything, you started it, bitch."

"Jerk." Sam immediately responded and the two of them laughed as Dean put the car in reverse and backed up. As they drove back to the motel, Sam couldn't help but think that he could cross what they'd done off his Bucket List - as well as the list of things he'd sworn he would never do. _Oh well_, he thought to himself, with a smirk on his face, _maybe now Dean will pull the priest getup more often._


End file.
